The morning light was soft—golden strands slipping lazily through the old wooden blinds, warming the worn floorboards of the guest room with streaks of pale sun. Dust motes danced in the stillness, swaying gently as if in rhythm with the slow, steady breath of a house still waking.
Toki stepped quietly into the room, careful not to let the old door creak.
The sight that greeted him made him pause—just for a moment. A smile ghosted onto his face before he even realized it.
Tora was sitting cross-legged on the floor by the window, hunched over a thick book whose title he couldn't make out from here. Her brow furrowed with an intensity that made her look like a miniature scholar—lips moving as she read silently to herself. But beside her, Haru crouched with curious eyes, leaning too close, nearly pressing her cheek against the pages in an attempt to follow along. Tora shifted, clearly annoyed, angling the book further away.
"Stop breathing on the paper, Haru," she muttered, not looking up.
"But I wanna know what happens next," Haru whispered back, her voice all sugar and mischief.
"That's not how you read! You're wrinkling the corner—hey!" Tora snapped, clutching the book like a sacred artifact.
Toki muffled a laugh behind his hand.
Across the room, Kandaki knelt by the low bench where Toki's equipment was laid out—his sword, still sheathed, and the ironwood staff he'd inherited . Kandaki was wiping them down with a damp cloth, moving with the seriousness of a craftsman tending to a sacred relic. His strokes were deliberate, his eyes focused, hands steady.
Toki crossed the room silently and crouched beside him.
"You don't need to do that," he said gently, reaching for the cloth.
Kandaki pulled back slightly and bowed his head. "It's my duty, Master Toki. An apprentice must care for his master's arms. It's tradition."
Toki chuckled softly, tousling the boy's messy hair. "You don't have to be so formal with me. We're not in a temple or a throne room. Honestly… you can think of me as your older brother, if you want."
Kandaki looked up at him, eyes wide and unsure. Then he nodded—once. "Yes, brother."
There was a loud clatter from behind them.
Toki turned just as a small door swung open in the far corner of the room—the one he hadn't noticed last night. It must've been hidden in the shadowed nook, tucked away behind an old armoire.
From within, a warm smell rushed out—roasted onions, pepper, and something sweet underneath. The aroma rolled over them like a wave, instantly awakening the children's senses. Even Tora's bickering ceased.
Utsuki stepped out of the little kitchen space, wearing a simple apron tied at her waist. Her long, silver hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, revealing the sharp lines of her cheekbones and the clear rose-pink of her eyes, which were now narrowed with unmistakable disapproval.
In one hand, she held a ladle. Her other hand rested on her hip, fingers tapping.
Her voice was calm—but steely.
"Why did you sneak out again in the middle of the night?"
Toki straightened.
She took another step forward, her gaze not softening.
"Today is important, Toki. For you—and for the team. You need rest. Especially with those wounds of yours still fresh."
Before Toki could reply, a sarcastic voice rang from across the room.
"Maybe he was visiting a brothel," Tora said, without lifting her head. "Your knight doesn't seem as loyal as he should be, Utsuki."
Both Utsuki and Hana giggled.
Toki blinked.
Kandaki's head shot up, red rising in his cheeks. He stood abruptly, glaring at Tora with wide, indignant eyes. "I cannot accept the disrespect you've shown Master Toki! I am certain he had important matters to attend to—how dare you question his loyalty?"
Tora scoffed and, without warning, hurled her book at Kandaki. It spun through the air with surprising speed and smacked directly into his face with a dull whack.
Kandaki yelped, stumbling back with both hands over his nose.
Toki rushed forward, only to find blood trickling between Kandaki's fingers. The boy winced but said nothing.
Utsuki turned on her heel. "Tora! That is not how a proper young lady behaves."
Tora crossed her arms. "He started it."
Toki raised a hand. "Let them be. They'll sort it out themselves."
Utsuki frowned but relented, though she didn't hide the sigh that escaped her lips.
Kandaki sat down again, nursing his nose.
To everyone's surprise, Tora knelt beside him and took out a clean cloth from her sleeve. She pressed it gently against the bridge of his nose, holding his head with a care she rarely showed.
Kandaki blinked at her.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked softly, voice thick with confusion. "I'm just a street rat."
Tora hesitated.
Then, barely audible, she muttered, "Because I'm a street rat too."
Kandaki blinked again.
"And… I started it," she added, looking away. "Your loyalty to Toki, and how you care for your sister—I can respect that."
Kandaki's cheeks turned pink. "Thank you."
Toki watched them from the corner, arms crossed.
He turned to Utsuki and murmured, "It seems love isn't too young or too old to bloom."
Utsuki looked at him, her expression unreadable.
He smiled and added, "Still, the credit is yours. You always tried to make every child feel like they belonged. You put their happiness above your own. That's why I'm honored to be your knight."
Utsuki's face flushed a soft rose.
"Stop that," she said, brushing past him toward the kitchen. "Just come taste the soup."
Toki followed, amused.
In the small, cozy kitchen nook, Utsuki handed him a steaming spoonful of soup straight from the pot. He sipped it carefully.
"…A little salty."
Utsuki grimaced. "I'm sorry—I thought—"
"It's fine," he cut in gently. "Yuki taught me a trick for this."
He grabbed a nearby potato, peeled and sliced it quickly, then dropped it into the pot.
"The starch absorbs some of the salt. Give it five minutes."
Utsuki watched him work, leaning back against the counter.
"…Do you miss them?" she asked softly.
Toki didn't look up. "Yeah. I do. But I can't go back yet. Not until I've finished the paperwork… and the ritual tonight. Only then can I face them again—Yuki, Suzume, Haru, Natsu, Aki… Leonard. Even Arashi."
He stirred the soup gently.
"They took me in when I was nothing. When I thought I'd never feel warmth again. What I do now—I do it for them. For you. And for all those who have no voice."
Utsuki walked over and placed her hand gently on his.
"You don't have to bear it all alone, Toki."
He looked at her—truly looked.
"You've never judged me. Even when I was reckless. Even when I dragged children into danger."
Utsuki smiled, softly. "What you do is show them that they matter. That they're not alone. That someone still cares enough to fight for them. That's what makes you human. What makes you warm."
She gestured back toward the other room.
"Tora and Kandaki were ready to tear each other apart. Now she's tending his wounds. That's your influence."
Toki was quiet for a moment.
"…You always say the right thing," he said.
"Because someone has to," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Now go sit. I'll bring the bowls."
He obeyed, taking a seat at the small dining table just as the children wandered in. Haru jumped onto a stool. Kandaki sat beside Tora, who passed him a napkin without a word.
Within minutes, Utsuki served steaming bowls of soup to each of them.
The clinking of spoons filled the room, broken only by murmured thanks and satisfied hums.
Toki took a bite, then another.
Perfect now.
The children ate hungrily.
The breakfast had come and gone, the bowls now empty and the kitchen filled with the soft clatter of washing dishes. Toki stood from his chair, the warmth of the meal still lingering in his chest. He adjusted his coat with practiced ease, slipping his arms into the sleeves and smoothing the lapels. His top hat hung from the coat rack, and he took it with a slight tip of his head before placing it neatly atop his hair.
Kandaki turned from the table, noticing Toki preparing to leave.
"Are you going somewhere, Master Toki?"
Toki gave a small nod as he adjusted his belt, where his cane rested comfortably in its loop. "Just to the palace," he said. "There are some papers to sign and a meeting with Mr. Smith."
He turned toward the children. "I'll be sending a carriage later this evening to bring you all to the palace. Make sure you're ready by then."
His gaze settled on Kandaki, who stood straighter the moment Toki's eyes met his.
"I Leave the sword here," Toki said, pointing gently to the weapon resting near the door. "While I'm gone, you're the man of the house. Protect the others, understood?"
Kandaki's chest swelled with pride. He stood tall and placed a fist over his heart. "Understood, Master. I will guard them with my life."
Toki smiled warmly and nodded.
From the kitchen, Utsuki appeared, drying her hands on a towel. Her silver hair was slightly tousled from the morning heat, and a few strands clung to her forehead.
"Have a safe journey," she said. "And take care of yourself."
Toki offered her a small bow. "I will. Thank you for the meal."
He turned and began to descend the stairs. The sound of his cane tapping the wooden steps echoed through the hallway until it faded with the creak of the front door opening and closing.
Utsuki lingered near the sink, her eyes drifting toward the window as she absently scrubbed a dish. Her gaze followed the distant figure of Toki walking down the dirt road, his silhouette upright and steady.
Tora, who had snuck up behind her, leaned casually against the counter.
"You should've kissed your husband goodbye," she said with a smirk.
Utsuki flushed instantly, nearly dropping the plate in her hand. "I just worry about his wounds, that's all," she muttered.
Back on the road, Toki's walk was quiet and purposeful. The air was fresh, filled with birdsong and the scent of morning dew. He moved with ease, the tip of his cane clicking lightly with every step.
As he arrived at the palace gates, the guards gave him a respectful nod. He passed through without pause, heading straight for the training grounds.
There, his division was already assembled. Rows of knights stood in formation, their heads bowed as he approached. Even those who had once questioned him now greeted him with a mixture of reverence and guilt.
Toki gave them a smile—not of pride, but of encouragement.
"Keep up the good work," he said simply.
At the back of the grounds, leaning casually against the stone wall, Mr. Smith stood puffing on his pipe. Smoke curled upward, catching the light.
"You're expected," Smith said, tapping the pipe against his boot. "Lorelay's waiting for you."
He gestured toward the eastern wing.
As they walked, Toki glanced over his shoulder, sensing something.
A sudden hand clapped his back.
"You really can't go anywhere without me, can you?" came Bernard's voice.
Toki sighed dramatically. "Do you always stalk me, sir Night Bard?"
"Maybe," Bernard replied, grinning. "Or maybe there's just something magnetic about you. I'm coming with you. And I'll introduce you to the rest of the team who'll handle your ritual."
Mr. Smith cleared his throat. "But first, paperwork."
They entered a side hall and walked into Smith's office. It was a modest room, filled with ledgers, scrolls, and two globes of unknown maps. Smith pulled a parchment from his drawer and spread it on the desk.
"This is your contract," he said. "Read it if you want. Or just sign here."
Toki skimmed the page, then signed with a fluid motion.
"Welcome to the Order, young Commander," Smith said. "Your weekly salary will be one hundred gold coins."
He turned to a nearby cabinet and opened a drawer. From within, he drew out a small box and opened it. Inside rested a pendant—silver-framed with a crimson crystal at its heart.
Smith handed it to Toki.
"A welcome gift," he said. "It's a Tier 2 artifact. Took me weeks to get it. It will help with your sensory perception. Should bring you clarity when things get… difficult."
Toki bowed slightly. "Thank you. I'm honored."
He slipped the chain over his head, the crystal resting just below his collarbone.
Smith glanced at his pocket watch. "She should be here any moment."
Just then, the doors opened.
A woman in a tailored coat stepped inside. Her deep blue eyes met Toki's instantly, and a knowing smile touched her lips.
"Toki," she said, waving. "Gerald's told me much about you."
Mr. Smith—Gerald—cleared his throat and looked away, slightly red-faced.
Bernard nudged him with an elbow. "You've got a youthful soul, sir."
The woman approached Toki and gently placed her hands on his cheeks.
"I'm Lorelay. Expert of the Department of Death. I'll be assisting you with the ritual."
She stepped back, still studying him.
"I sensed your presence before I even opened the door. You're special, Toki. With the right push, you'd resonate with any department of Moonlight's Court. But I suggest Darkness or Death."
Toki raised a brow. "Why those two?"
"Because they echo within you," she said simply. "Gerald told me you had a vision. That's rare for someone uninitiated. Perhaps your ancestors had a deeper bond with the divine."
Smith and Lorelay exchanged glances.
"We have business to attend," she said. "Bernard, take him to the alchemy hall. He needs to meet the next member of the team."
Bernard gave a mock salute. "With pleasure."
They left the office and walked through several winding halls before arriving at a tall, arched door made of brass and carved oak.
Bernard pushed it open.
The alchemy hall was vast. Shelves lined every wall, overflowing with herbs, books, crystals, and bottled liquids that glowed with soft light. At the center, surrounded by beakers and pots, was an elderly man hunched over a root, scraping it with a silver blade.
He looked up as they entered.
"Ah! Young gentleman, you must be Toki."
The old man's eyes were warm and chestnut-brown, his white beard neatly trimmed.
"I'm Felix Cuthemberg. But you can just call me Old Man Felix. I'll be your supplier for the ritual. Herbs, reagents, tinctures—you name it."
Toki stepped forward and extended his hand. "A pleasure."
Felix took it with a strong grip. "We'll get you ready, boy. Just don't faint when we get to the bloodwork part."
Bernard chuckled behind him. "Don't worry. He's tougher than he looks."
And with that, the next chapter of Toki's preparation truly began.